Before long, the year-end arrived. The Lin household had everything prepared—door gods replaced, couplets renewed, peachwood charms freshly painted, and large vermilion lanterns hung high, creating a festive New Year atmosphere. Though the shadow of the imperial family's internal strife in the capital had not yet dissipated, the Emperor seemed intent on swiftly calming public sentiment, making this year's celebrations more lavish than ever. Civil and military officials deliberately promoted an image of national peace and prosperity, with lanterns and decorations adorning every corner, filling the streets with bustling joy and exuberance. Lin Zhaoxiang attended the Hundred Elders' Banquet at the palace, and upon his return, a eunuch announced an imperial decree: due to Lin Jinlou's meritorious service, he was promoted to the position of Commander-in-Chief. Congratulations poured in incessantly, but the Lin family humbly attributed it to the Emperor's boundless grace, holding ancestral worship ceremonies without overt celebrations. Yet, the household could not conceal their joy, and even the maids stood a little taller than usual. By then, Lin Jinlou could already get out of bed and move about. Though his arrow wound was deep, his youth and robust constitution, combined with meticulous care and the liberal use of rare medicines, accelerated his recovery beyond the ordinary.
After the Lantern Festival, Lin Jinlou's complexion had improved significantly, his cheeks filling out gradually. He could sit up on his own and walk short distances slowly. Xianglan devoted herself to his care, daily arranging for the kitchen to prepare varied dishes and soups, sometimes cooking herself. She woke twice each night to change his dressings and took dictation to handle his official duties. Prolonged illness often breeds irritability, especially for someone as temperamental as Lin Jinlou. The maids avoided him when he scowled, but Xianglan would bring Buddhist scriptures to read to him. At first, Lin Jinlou found it novel and listened half-heartedly, but as she persisted, he protested, "Listening to this makes me drowsy. Why not hire a storyteller for some entertainment?"
Xianglan sighed inwardly, thinking her efforts were wasted on deaf ears. Lin Jinlou, plagued by greed, anger, ignorance, arrogance, and doubt, ought to listen carefully to dispel his inherent hostility.
Seeing Xianglan's dejected expression as she gathered the scriptures to leave, Lin Jinlou quickly grabbed her wrist and said, "Alright, alright, keep reading. It's fine."
Xianglan asked doubtfully, "You like listening?"
"...Mmm, it's acceptable..."
Lin Jinlou gazed at Xianglan's soft, delicate profile. In truth, he had little interest in the scriptures, but having her sit beside him, patiently and devoutly reciting each word, praying for his health, filled his heart with warmth and contentment, lifting the corners of his mouth into a smile.
Just then, a maid announced Lin Jinting's arrival. Upon inquiry, Lin Jinlou learned that Lin Jinting sought advice on social dealings. Recently, the entire Lin household's affairs had fallen on Lin Jinting's shoulders alone, leaving him thinner but more spirited and composed than before. After discussing personnel changes in the capital, Lin Jinting remarked, "This fraternal conflict has brought mixed fortunes—some rejoicing, others grieving. Several families in the capital have been promoted, while others have fallen. Did you know? Duke Xian hanged himself in prison."
Xianglan, writing a family letter in the adjacent gauze-curtained cabinet, paused her hand upon hearing this.
"I heard about it," Lin Jinlou said, placing his tea bowl on the plum-blossom table beside the bed. "He was the Second Prince's pawn. The Emperor made an example of him, throwing him into prison and confiscating his property. In these times, loyalty is as thin as gauze—few would lend a hand. When Duke Xian learned the Emperor had sentenced him to death, he hanged himself with his belt in prison that very night, at least preserving his body intact.""Ah, fortunately Yi Fei was clever and requested an external posting early on. Although the Ministry of Personnel held it up for a while, we finally received word that he'll set off tomorrow."
Lin Jinlou glanced sideways through the gauze cabinet, where beyond the exquisitely carved wooden panels with fresh floral patterns, he could see Xianglan holding a brush in a daze. He frowned and said to Lin Jinting with a stern face, "Anything else? If not, get lost. I'm tired and need to rest."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Just yesterday I was telling Aunt how your temper had improved, and now you're turning hostile again... Fine, fine, I won't say more. I'm leaving, won't disturb Your Excellency."
After Lin Jinting left, the room fell silent. Xianglan emerged to see Lin Jinlou leaning against the headboard, staring blankly ahead as he slowly wound the tassels hanging from the bed curtains around his hand. Round and round he wound them, until his hand turned pale and his fingers swelled red, then began to purple.
Xianglan approached and said softly, "Don't wind it so tight. It's not good for your circulation."
Lin Jinlou kept his head down without speaking.
Xianglan then took his hand and began unwinding the tassel ribbons. Lin Jinlou looked up at her and slowly grasped her hand. Just as he was about to speak, Xiao Juan entered and said, "Several young masters from the Eldest Master's clan are waiting to visit. Should they be received?"
Lin Jinlou frowned and said, "I've only had a few days of peace, and now another group comes right after the last."
Xianglan gave Xiao Juan a meaningful look and said, "Ask Shu Ran and Xu Fu to send them away." Xiao Juan withdrew. Just then, Ling Su and others entered carrying basins. Xianglan helped Lin Jinlou change clothes, taking a foreign towel to wash his face and wipe his body as she said, "It's the New Year season. It's only natural for them to visit. If you don't wish to receive them, have Third Master entertain them instead. The younger generation can be managed, but there are elders too."
Sitting on the bed, Lin Jinlou suddenly grasped Xianglan's hand and asked, "During the New Year, do you miss your parents?"
Xianglan paused in surprise, withdrew her hand and continued wiping his arms. Looking down, she said, "I do... I originally intended to make some needlework to send back, but haven't finished..."
Lin Jinlou felt emotional turmoil as he watched Xianglan's lowered face without speaking. After a long moment, he took her hand again, playing with her fingers as he said, "If we were in Jinling, I would have had them brought to the residence. There's no helping it now, but when we return, I'll go with you to visit them."
Xianglan lifted her eyelids to steal a glance at Lin Jinlou before lowering them again, focusing on the scars on his shoulders. The knife wound on Lin Jinlou's shoulder had nearly healed, leaving only flesh-colored scars. He had over twenty scars of various sizes on his body. Xianglan felt sudden emotion and some indescribable sorrow. While others envied Lin Jinlou for achieving success young and commanding heavy troops, they didn't know his illustrious status had been earned through life-and-death struggles.
Lin Jinlou also felt somewhat melancholy. Noticing the faint shadows under Xianglan's eyes, he said quietly, "You haven't been sleeping well these past few days, have you? My injury is much better - you don't need to get up at night to change the dressings anymore... Is the cook unsatisfactory?"
"No, he's quite good.""What's so good about it? Your chin has grown so thin and pointed, your oval face is almost turning into a melon-seed shape." As he spoke, he raised his hand and gently touched Xianglan's cheek. "I'll make sure you get proper nourishment later. You look better with a bit more weight on you." After a long pause, he added in a low voice, "You've suffered following me these days."
Xianglan was taken aback, instinctively leaning back to avoid his hand. Lin Jinlou had always been a tyrant—domineering, overbearing, and accustomed to ordering people about. Even when he was slightly more pleasant with her, he would still lose his temper if a few words didn't suit him. He had never spoken so softly or clung to her like this, sending people to look for her if she was out of his sight for even a moment. When he threw tantrums in bed, she couldn't help scolding him a couple of times, and surprisingly, he obediently listened. She was used to dealing with the former tyrant Lin but found herself at a loss with this version of Lin Jinlou. She looked up and met his gaze directly. His eyes were long and bright, something Xianglan had always found too sharp. But today, they seemed veiled in a soft haze, as if swirling with turbulent emotions, rendering her momentarily speechless.
Lin Jinlou gazed into Xianglan's eyes, so clear they resembled autumn waters. He felt a turmoil in his chest, unsettling and bewildering, as if under a spell. He reached out, cupping Xianglan's face with both hands, leaning in slowly, tilting his head to meet her lips—warm as silk, sweet as honey. Having spent his life drifting through romantic encounters and casual affairs, he had never kissed anyone with such devotion. A tremor ran through his heart, spreading to every limb, and he even felt absurdly humble. He gently sucked, then deepened the kiss, his trembling fingers cradling the back of Xianglan's head, pulling her closer.
Pulled forward, Xianglan bumped against his chest, causing Lin Jinlou to let out a muffled groan. As if awakening from a dream, she flusteredly pushed him away, stood up, and retreated two steps. Her cheeks flushed, breath uneven, she backed all the way to the washstand before stammering, "The water's cold. I'll go change it." She turned, picked up the basin, and left.
Lin Jinlou sat in stunned silence for a long while.
A moment later, Xianglan returned with a fresh basin, her expression now composed. She silently wiped Lin Jinlou down and applied new ointment. Lin Jinlou pressed his lips together without a word, holding two official documents in his hands. He stared at one page for a long time, though it was unclear if he was actually reading it. He didn't say a word to Xianglan, not even when taking his medicine. Xianglan knew he was sulking. Glancing at the pile of documents on the desk—which she was supposed to help him draft that evening—she flipped through them and found nothing urgent. She thought it might be best to indulge his temper, as approaching him while he was in this mood would only invite trouble. She looked at Lin Jinlou again: he was still bent over a stack of letters, his face hidden in the shadow of the candlelight, his lips tightly pressed, almost like a child.
She sighed inwardly, quietly approached, placed a cup of hot tea on the small table, and took the papers from his hands. "It's late. Let's turn in early tonight," she said. She expected him to glare at her, but to her surprise, he didn't even glance her way. He simply rinsed his mouth and lay down.Xianglan blew out the lamp and lay down as well. They had retired early today, and from outside came sporadic bursts of firecrackers along with faint, distant clamor. Only then did Xianglan remember—tonight was the sixteenth, when households ventured out for the "Hundred Charms" stroll, which explained the lively commotion outside. The maids of the Hall of Flourishing Spring had not yet slept, and occasional footsteps and hushed laughter could be heard. Unable to fall asleep, Xianglan turned over twice when suddenly Lin Jinlou rolled onto his side and embraced her.
Xianglan instinctively murmured, "Your wound..."
Lin Jinlou replied, "It's not pressed."
Xianglan gave a soft "oh," unsure what else to say, and closed her eyes. After a moment, she suddenly heard Lin Jinlou ask, "Xianglan, do you still resent me?"
Xianglan opened her eyes. The bed was dim and shadowy, but Lin Jinlou's gaze shone brightly as he looked at her.
Xianglan froze, her throat suddenly tightening. "Eldest Master, I..."
"Never mind, I was just asking." Lin Jinlou abruptly cut her off, burying his face in her hair and murmuring, "Just a casual question..."
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